


One Quick Fix

by SashaDistan



Series: Space Husbands [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Established Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Just the Tip, Kabeshiri, M/M, Married Sheith, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post S-7, Restraints, Season 8 Doesn't Exist, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Stuck in a wall, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:15:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22700809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SashaDistan/pseuds/SashaDistan
Summary: “So,” Shiro folds his arms across his chest and leans the ball of one shoulder against the hull of the red cruiser, “what are you doing down there Keith?”Keith freezes.“Routine maintenance.”The one where Keith gets himself stuck half in and half out of his space cruiser, after watching interesting intergalactic porn.And Shiro finds him.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Space Husbands [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1892728
Comments: 35
Kudos: 339





	One Quick Fix

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FireWindmill (Firewindmill)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firewindmill/gifts), [an_aphorism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_aphorism/gifts).



> This is entirely the fault of those two (the people I've gifted this too >.>) and Twitter, and my stupidly overactive imagination. Damn you all.
> 
> Thank you to the lovely [Lole](https://twitter.com/@leandralena) for being such a great beta reader.

The last person to have seen Keith was Lance, who mentions that he had waved to him as Keith crossed the Paladin Common Room with a socket wrench and a portable soldering iron in one hand. Shiro thanks him for being so observant.

“Keith?”

“Hey Shiro.” Keith’s voice is incredibly level, considering everything.

“You missed our sparring session.”

“Yeah, sorry. I got...” There is a lengthy pause, because Keith is quite possibly the worst liar in the universe apart from Hunk, and he doesn’t have Hunk’s innate ability to omit information in a way which feels natural. “...distracted.” He finishes.

“Distracted?” Shiro’s eyebrows raise into his fringe.

“Yeah.”

“The mess is already serving the second dinner seating already. That’s a long time to get distracted.”

The silence is deafening.

“So,” Shiro folds his arms across his chest and leans the ball of one shoulder against the hull of the red cruiser, “what are you doing down there Keith?”

Keith freezes.

“Routine maintenance.”

Shiro smirks, taking in all the details of the sight before him again.

“I’ve known you to do routine maintenance on this ship every week for the past six months, and not once has it looked like that.”

“It was just one connection.” Keith’s tone is decidedly grumpy. “One wire...”

“Keith, you’re stuck aren’t you?”

“No.” Comes the moody response.

Shiro leans back from the ship, then steps forward, eyes tracking up the long lines of Keith’s legs, feet braced against the hanger floor. Normally from that position he would simply scoot back out of the hull cavity and smile up at Shiro from his back, but not this time. There is a slice of skin where his shirt has ridden up to expose his taut abdomen, right the way up to his lowest rib. Shiro’s gaze fixes on the easily discernible bulge between Keith’s legs, and he grins.

“Those are your gym clothes.”

Keith’s gym clothes cause Shiro difficulty at the best of times, because whilst sparring with Keith in nothing but a flight suit had been plenty arousing, there is something about his currently favoured look of technical workout leggings and slouchy muscle tanks which makes it extremely difficult for Shiro to focus on anything else.

“It was one connection,” Keith repeats, “I was just going to fix it really quick and then come meet you on the mats.”

Shiro reaches out and drags a knuckle over the lycra covered curve of Keith’s cock and the muscle twitches far too readily underneath his touch.

“Shiro!” Keith objects.

“I’m just looking.”

“Looking does not involve hands!” Keith declares. But his cock jerks with interest again, and Shiro’s not even touching him right now.

“Something you’re not telling me babe?”

Keith swears, muffled by the snug cavity of his cruiser and the plates of the hull.

“It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“A surprise?” Shiro can’t help his grin. “Has this got anything to do with the browser history you didn’t clear from my PADD before I had to use it in a diplomatic meeting the other day?

Keith makes a strangled noise.

“Did you watch-?”

“There were _several_ tabs...” Shiro reminds him, tapping his foot. Keith flexes his thighs, shifting with obvious discomfort. Shiro clears his throat pointedly.

“So there was this video on intergalacticpornhub.com,” Keith is speaking very quickly, “and this really hot galra guy did this post gym striptease.”

“Keith...”

“It was research!” Keith explains hotly.

“How many times? _Porn_ is not a research tool!” Shiro shakes his head in despair, resigned to Keith’s lack of ability to listen to him on this point. “Go on.”

“So… so he wiggles out of his shorts and turns around and then… and it turns out he’s done his whole workout with this fucking huge butt plug in.”

Shiro’s eyes are drawn instantly downward to Keith’s arse and the clingy fabric of his gym leggings. His position keeps the fabric pulled tight and away from his body by just enough that Shiro can make nothing out. He clears his throat, swallowing around the sudden dryness in his mouth at the thought.

“So you thought you’d just come spar like that? With me. With a ‘fucking huge butt plug’?”

There is another long silence.

“Not exactly.” Keith admits in a small voice.

Shiro quirks an eyebrow, then lets his hand come to rest just above Keith’s knee. Keith jerks and makes a strangled noise far beyond what the simple touch calls for.

“Define ‘not exactly’.”

“Ummm...”

Shiro allows his hand to travel, smoothing up Keith’s inner thigh, nails scraping over the stitched in-seam of his pants, feeling the muscle beneath quiver. He follows that line up to Keith’s centre and pauses.

“Are you going to tell me, or am I going to look?”

Keith sounds defeated – no easy task – when he answers.

“Beads.”

Shiro steadies himself with a breath, using his legendary self-control not to let the arousal caused by Keith’s reply show in his tone, because he is now, instantaneously, completely hard.

“Which ones?”

“The green ones.”

The green ones are not the most advanced in the bottom drawer of their dresser, as there are only four of them in the set. But they start off a decent size and get larger, the biggest just a fraction less than Shiro’s full girth. And they are attached together on a silicone spur, which means the overall shape is pretty rigid. Shiro can only imagine what the angle of Keith’s current position is doing to him.

“You decided to take a porn video as a challenge?”

“Yes.” Keith grunts.

“And then you tried to do something to your cruiser and got stuck in it?” Shiro clarifies.

There is a bang, and Shiro is fairly certain Keith has just smacked an elbow into part of the hull.

“I should have waited. Or I should have just taken panel fourteen off first like Pidge and the instruction manual told me to.” The offending panel gets another thump. “Are you gonna help me out or not?”

Shiro gazes down at the lower half of the man he loves, the strongest person he knows, and can’t help himself. Keith is never at a loss for what to do, Keith is always racing forward – with or without a plan – and jumping into everything both feet first. It’s sort of nice to see that attitude come around to bite him in the arse for once, and especially in such an enticing manner. Shiro crouches once more and skims his palm quickly over the trapped curl of Keith’s cock.

“Not.” He decides with a grin, then wraps strong fingers around Keith’s ankle just before the other man tries to kick him in the chest.

“What do you mean ‘not’? _Shiro!_ Get me out of this fucking thing!”

“I’ll make you a deal.” Shiro runs his fingers up Keith’s calf without letting go of his ankle. The other foot remains braced on the floor, supporting his weight to save his spine from the hard metal edge of the hull panel. “A challenge, if you prefer.”

Keith has always been weak for a challenge.

“Go on.”

“What bit of the hull is it you need me to remove to get you out?”

“Panel fourteen,” Keith replies through obviously gritted teeth.

“Right.” And now Shiro cannot keep the grin from his voice. “So, I’m going to tease you. And if you can resist giving in and begging me to fuck you for a whole fourteen minutes, I’ll let you out.”

Keith makes a strangled sort of noise, and the leg in Shiro’s hands jerks.

“This is the hanger. It’s _public_ Shiro!”

“Don’t care. It’s my ship.”

“I’m not sure that’s actually covered in the definition of Captain, Captain.”

Shiro skims his hands further up Keith’s thighs, and sees the reaction when his abs tense up in response.

“I’ll take it under advisement. Deal?”

“Hey, hey, hang on there, old timer. What makes you think you can resist all this for fourteen minutes?” Keith wiggles his hips in what would not usually be considered a sexy manner. But it’s Keith, he can eat peanut butter out of the jar with a spoon and Shiro still drools over him. “What if you cave?”

Shiro chuckles low, and Keith freezes.

“Then I’ll fuck you and leave you there.”

“You wouldn’t.” Keith’s voice has gone cold.

Shiro soothes the dread building within him by spanning Keith’s bare abdomen with his prosthetic hand, the million nano sensors instantly reading Keith’s pulse and blood pressure and much besides. Shiro doesn’t need the data right now, but begins to rub his thumb in soothing circles into the soft skin next to Keith’s hip bone.

“Not for anyone random to find, no. I’ll call someone else to come let you out. Let’s see… Matt seems like a good choice.”

“What the fuck? Why Matt?”

Shiro settles onto his knees between Keith’s thighs, getting comfortable. Fourteen minutes is a long time after all.

“Well, Matt respects you, but unlike Lance he’s not actually scared you might try to kill him. And unlike Hunk or Pidge he won’t be emotionally scarred by finding you in such a… compromising position.”

Keith seems to consider this.

“That’s a lot of thought for a spur of the moment decision, Captain.”

Shiro traces the seam of Keith’s leggings again, right up to the pillow of his arse.

“Well, I do want to win. Deal?”

“Neither of these options seem like winning to me,” Keith sighs. “Fine. Challenge accepted. Do your worst Captain.”

Shiro sets a countdown timer on his prosthetic, then smooths his hand up over Keith’s trapped cock to lay fingers against his skin. The contact gives him finer readouts, and Shiro spends a moment ensuring that Keith’s blood oxygen saturation is normal and healthy before he hooks both thumbs into the skin tight fabric of Keith’s leggings and yanks them down. Keith sucks air in between his teeth, one foot jerking in surprise; as though he hadn’t figured that Shiro would actually start stripping him naked out in the open hanger. Shiro takes his time, drawing the fabric down each of Keith’s legs in turn, divesting him of socks and shoes as he goes, palming over the long curves of his calves and the hard planes of his shins, before working his way with strong thumbs up Keith’s thighs.

Keith makes a pleased, self-satisfied sort of noise from where he’s stuck inside the hull of his ship.

“I wasn’t aware that a relaxing massage was supposed to be teasing,” he gloats.

Shiro can well imagine Keith’s smirk. That latent confidence which has allowed the man he loves to rise through the stars, take charge, and forge a bright shining path for himself and those he wishes to take with him on the journey, blooms into something assured and cocky when they’re alone together. For a moment, Shiro wishes he could see Keith’s face, reach up to kiss him and taste the eager, warm slide of his lips and tongue. And then his thumbs reach their destination, and Shiro could not be more pleased that Keith has managed to get himself stuck like this. He presses against the flared base of the anal beads, hard, and is rewarded with Keith’s yelp.

“AHH!”

Shiro skims his fingertips around the base, sweeping between the body-warmed green silicone and Keith’s sensitive skin. His movements becoming more concentrated with each pass until he is rubbing over Keith’s slicked up, puffy rim, and Keith is very obviously biting back is groans. From within the ship come half words and growls with mostly sound like _‘fuck’_ and _‘Shiro’_ and _‘oh god’_ , and when Shiro moves his fingers away by the smallest fraction, Keith’s hips jerk in an aborted motion to follow him.

“Eager?”

“Fuck you,” Keith replies. But the skin of his inner thigh shivers under Shiro’s other hand, and Shiro smiles as he returns to task.

It takes him a moment to get two fingers hooked securely around the base of the toy, and the way Keith’s pulse surges beneath him is incredibly distracting, but Shiro manages. He leans forward and places a kiss to the underside of Keith’s now fully erect cock as he tugs sharply on the toy.

“Oh fuck!”

“Mmmm?” Shiro feigns disinterest, but he cannot tear his eyes away from the tense clutch of Keith’s body around the object inside him. He tugs again, watching as Keith’s rim stretches wide around the bead. Keith pants, his exposed abdomen heaving, and then Shiro relaxes and lets the big bead slide back into him again.

“ _Shiro!_ ” Keith whines.

“Did you want something baby?”

Keith’s cock twitches and jerks, and Shiro rewards him with another kiss, tonguing wetly at the side of his shaft as Keith squirms. Even tied up in bed, Keith’s never been quite so thoroughly at his mercy before, not like this. Shiro pulls and releases the toy again, keeping each movement slow, and begins to give voice to his lust.

“You look so pretty like this baby. Mmmm… so helpless and so needy.” Another tug, another groan of exasperation as he lets the toy slide back in. “Love how you look displayed so well for me Keith. Such a dirty boy with your pretty little hole already stuffed full. And so full too.”

Shiro pulls on the beads, a slow, inexorable movement which brings the biggest bead out to its broadest point. Keith is stretched wide, pink and swollen, around the lubricated silicone, and a breathless whine of need issues from the hull of the cruiser. Shiro pauses, forearm braced against Keith’s thigh, keeping him at full stretch as he teases Keith’s entrance with his finger.

“I could just keep you here like this, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing to stop me.”

“Shiro...”

“Or I could just-” Shiro tugs and pops the bead from Keith’s hole. Keith’s cry is like punctuation. “-just leave you here like this. Anyone could see you baby. Anyone could see how hot you are, how eager to be filled up.”

Shiro pushes the exposed bead back against Keith’s entrance, twisted and turning it in little circles, knowing the effect it will have on the three remaining beads where they press against Keith’s sensitive nerve endings. Keith’s cock jerks and bounces against his abs, leaving a shiny splat of pre-cum, and Shiro sighs happily, breath warm on Keith’s skin. Keith whines wordlessly, back arching.

“Something you need, baby?”

The silence stretches between them, taut and twanging, and Shiro skims his eyes over the readouts on his arm as he strokes his thumb over the vein in Keith’s thigh. His heart rate is up, but well within an acceptable range

“Keith?”

“I’m fine.”

“Just fine?” Shiro slips his hands from Keith’s skin and resists the strong urge to start ripping his own clothes off. He palms himself firmly, just once, through his sweats. “I could always go and get dinner from the mess before it closes, if you’re fine?”

“Ngh- Shiro!” Keith’s tone is equal parts turned on and panicked, and Shiro returns a hand instantly to the smooth skin of Keith’s inner thigh. The man shivers but relaxes visibly under his touch. “Ahhh...”

“There, there baby. Don’t you worry. You’re much too much fun to leave just yet.”

Keith makes a strangled noise from somewhere underneath hull panel fourteen, as Shiro’s fingers return to the join of flesh and silicone, teasing around his rim. Shiro smiles, and set’s about removing the toy from Keith in the slowest, most torturous manner he knows.

“Look at you baby. I can see just how hot you were to get something in your arse. Such a pretty little hole, and stretched _so wide_. Oh yeah, just like that. You want it back? Here baby. Feel that so heavy inside you? Think how much better it’ll be when it’s me. Would you like that Keith? Hmmm… I’ll bet you would. Give it back now. Just one. Ah, there you go. Good boy, such a dirty boy on display for just anyone to see. Aren’t you lucky I found you first?”

He carries on until Keith’s hole is clenching around only the smallest bead, the other three hanging out of him obscenely, and Keith’s aching cock has left a wet mess on his stomach. Shiro leans forward and ghosts his breath over Keith’s hard on, drinking in the scent of the man he loves, and follows the curve of Keith’s cock to place a kiss just under the head. Keith says something – his name so softly – which makes it sound like a profanity. Shiro knows Keith’s cock well, and he loves it. He knows just how Keith likes to be stroked, how he likes to be sucked. Shiro knows how to draw Keith out of himself and make it last until the man is crying and coming apart in his hands, and he knows how to bring Keith the most pleasure possible in the shortest amount of time. Years of unplanned, middle of the day hook ups has taught them both efficiency as well as pleasure – but now he does none of those things. He doesn’t touch, just lets his breath slide over Keith, making sure to move out of the way for each twitch, jerk, and desperate motion of Keith’s hips; watching the way it makes the toy inside him sway, listening to the half-blurted groans and gasps which that sensation then brings forth. It’s beautiful and filthy and incredibly fucking hot. The fact that Keith still isn’t begging him for what Shiro knows he wants – demonstrating a kind of iron-willed self-control which has allowed him to hold his own against bigger, stronger opponents both in battle and in the boardroom – only makes Shiro want him more.

He checks the timer on his arm. Not long, and Keith could do with being teased just a little bit more.

He takes hold of the anal beads at the base, and yanks the last one from Keith without warning. Keith yowls, the noise loud even through the layers of steel, carbon fibre, and Kevlar of the cruiser’s hull. His hole flutters, clenching on nothing after being full so long, and Shiro wastes no time in pressing the pad of his thumb there. Keith whimpers, all but sucking him in, and this time it’s Shiro who can’t help but moan.

“Oh fucking hell baby. You’re so wet and so open already. God- _Keith_ \- you’re so perfect.”

Keith grunts something from his trapped position: he’s always bad taking praise at first.

Shiro sweeps up and down the cleft of his arse, teasing over his hole as he shoves the front of his sweats down and wrestles with his boxers to free his own cock. The length springs into his hand, hard and longing for contact after how long Shiro’s been thinking about Keith being trapped right there with his perfect arse on display. Shiro grins to himself, then gathers Keith’s shiny pre-cum on two fingers and pushes it into Keith’s hole. Keith bucks, one leg kicking out as he loses his footing.

“It’s alright baby. I’ve got you.”

“Shiro-!”

“Shhhh...” Shiro massages back up Keith’s leg as he repositions his foot – sole firmly on the floor – and Keith quiets under his touch. Calm, but no less aroused.

Shiro repeats his gesture, gathering the evidence of Keith’s arousal and using it first to further slick his readily open entrance, then to coat his own cock. Shiro wraps his hands around both of Keith’s hips as he kneels forward, tapping the head of his cock right against him.

“Hey! Whoa there Captain.” Keith manages to sound both surprised and cocky. “Time’s not up yet… so you’re in a _losing_ mood after all?”

Shiro snarls soundlessly at the timer he’s set, which is nearly but not quite all the way to zero.

“Just the tip babe. It doesn’t count.”

Keith’s diaphragm flexes with the force of his surprise.

“It… doesn’t count?” he echoes in disbelief.

“You want me to fuck you out here in the hanger bay where anyone could walk by and see? You could beg...”

Shiro thinks Keith might quite seriously be considering the correct angles required to kick him in the head for that comment, because whilst neither of them actually want to get caught – illicit as the thrill of discovery is – for Keith the idea of being heard _begging_ by anyone other than Shiro is mortifying.

“Fine,” he rasps eventually, “it doesn’t count.”

Shiro grins, dragging his tongue across his teeth, knowing that at some point the liberties he’s taking with Keith are going to come back to bite him, and that he’ll enjoy every single second of whatever revenge Keith metes out.

He adjusts his grip on Keith’s hips, lines himself up properly, and forgets how to breath as he watches himself breach Keith’s entrance. It’s a lot, even after all the teasing, and sometimes Shiro lets himself forget quite how tight and hot and overwhelming it is being inside Keith. This is Keith, who despite being stuck half out of a space ship is still the sexiest man alive, fast and fierce and talented in every single way possible, and who has promised to love him – Shiro – forever. He stills, freezes with the tight ring of Keith’s hole clenching just under the head of his cock, and forces himself to breath instead of pushing forward into the wet, velvet heat of the man he adores.

Keith shifts his hips, desperately trying to get closer, to fuck himself back onto Shiro’s cock, and Shiro grabs him under one thigh, lifting his foot from the floor, bracing his leg and keeping him immobile.

“I thought you weren’t going to beg?” Shiro purrs.

“I thought you weren’t going to fuck me?” Keith snarls.

“I’m not.” Shiro moves his hips, a tiny subtle rock, just enough to pull at Keith’s rim, not enough to satisfy either of them, but Keith’s cock jerks anyway. “Oh baby, wish you could see how fucking good you look. Split open around me and just waiting… waiting for me to fuck that pretty little hole of yours properly.” Shiro flexes his hips again, jerks so small they’re barely movements at all, except for the way they make it hard for him to breathe with the sensation. He loves looking down at the length of himself, all lubed up and ready to plunge into Keith’s perfect body.

“So beautiful baby,” he purrs. “So eager for me to fill you up.” Shiro strokes one fingertip across the place where their flesh is joined, making them both shudder. “You want that baby? You want me to fuck you like you deserve?”

“Ugh… Shiro….”

And just as Shiro thinks Keith’s about to cave and actually ask him for what he wants, the timer he set gets down to zero with a soft beep, and Keith lets out a breathless laugh.

“You _bastard_. Get me out of this thing right now.”

Shiro considers this for the shortest moment, then slams his hips into Keith’s arse with every bit of pent up energy he would have used if Keith had made it to their sparring session.

“ _Fuck-”_ the noise comes out of Keith like he’s been punched, just breathless enough that Shiro’s arm checks automatically on his O-two-stats, before he pulls out and plunges back in with another snap of his hips.

“Baby... Oh god Keith!”

Shiro sets a frantic pace, very well aware that after so much teasing neither of them are likely to last long, and is rewarded with the sound of Keith’s fingernails scrabbling against the interior hull of the ship as he moans. Keith is hot and wet and fucking slick around him and Shiro is barely cognizant enough to get a hand around Keith’s dick before his rhythm stutters. He strokes and fucks Keith through his own orgasm, reaching the point of exhaustion and oversensitivity just as Keith keens – the ship practically vibrating with the noise – and spills across his fist and his own stomach. Keith’s body clamps around Shiro’s spent cock, bringing forth a whole new wave of expletive moans, and Shiro pitches forward with his head on Keith’s abs.

At some point not long later, he realises Keith’s fingers are stroking sweetly at the back of his hair, tracing little circles in his newly shorn undercut. Shiro glances up, frowning as Keith finishes both extracting himself and hull panel fourteen from the belly of the cruiser, sitting up with his spine cracking audibly. From his new position in Keith’s lap, Shiro makes a noise of query.

“Hey you.” Keith’s smile is bright and beaming, better than any sun in the universe.

“Wha- when-?”

Keith glances at the discarded hull panel with a smirk.

“Somewhere between beads two and three,” he admits with a shrug.

Shiro gapes.

“You… you could have got out all that time and you just… let me...” He can’t finish the end of the sentence, suddenly embarrassed despite being post orgasmically sweaty and not entirely dressed on the slightly gritty floor of the hanger.

“It would have been awkward as fuck.” Keith explains. But he bites his lip, blushing softly. “And it was… oddly hot. Unexpectedly so.”

Shiro files that information away for the future.

“Miss kissing you though.” Keith bends – he’s just so fucking flexible – and kisses Shiro soundly, drawing back with a smile. “Better. C’mon Captain, we’d better go before someone actually does wander through and find us.”

In between kisses they both manage to pull on enough clothing to look decent – if only from a distance – and Keith pockets his tools and his toy before kissing Shiro deeply again. Shiro loops an arm around his waist as they turn to go, stomachs rumbling in unison.

“Reckon Hunk will have left us something in the common room?”

“Probably. Doubt there’ll be any pudding though, Lance will have eaten it all already.”

Keith laughs, bumping Shiro with his shoulder.

“Think you can ask Atlas to wipe all the security footage from the hanger cameras?”

Shiro nuzzles into his hair, knowing it will be done with no more than a thought, and wonders how he ever lived without _this_ in his life.

“Done. Does that mean I might find you stuck in a wall or something again?”

Keith arches an eyebrow.

“Maybe I’ll find you in one. C’mon, let’s go eat.”

Shiro tries not to be distracted by the sensation of Keith's hip under his palm along with those words as they walk. He fails.

**Author's Note:**

> Please come chat with us on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/SashaDistan)
> 
> This author responds to comments.


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